


Relax (Don’t Do It)

by SonicoSenpai



Series: FFVII Time Travel Smut [4]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Honeybee Inn (Compilation of FFVII), Honeyboy!Cloud, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pole Dancing, Recreational Drug Use, Sex Work, Shinra Work Party, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27648572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: Another two-shot from the Kinktober fic that I considered for the last chapter but didn’t finish. You don’t have to read the series, but if you enjoy this, you might like some of the other fics, too.Aerith, the planet’s avatar, has decided Cloud needs to change his approach. She wants to use a different means to “conquer” the Calamity. She sends Cloud to this time/world in which he is an exotic dancer and Honeyboy at the Honey Bee Inn. This time, he meets the world head on and *goes with it.*
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Series: FFVII Time Travel Smut [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002099
Comments: 8
Kudos: 104





	1. Pole Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> No sex (but referenced) in this first chapter. That will come in chapter two. And yes, there are no archive warnings in this fic.
> 
> Thank you to the HBO Max series Legendary, which inspired this piece. (Really, if you can stand reality TV, watch it. I personally hate reality television, but that one was amazing!)

“Get moving, Cloudy! You’re up, yo!”

Startled and disoriented, I jerk my chin up from where I’m sitting to meet Reno’s gaze in the mirror in front of me. I look around quickly, taking in the situation as quickly as possible. I’m sitting in front of a vanity with a bottle of mascara in my hand. That in itself is a little weird—and immediately I think of the time at Don Corneo’s.

Reno is dressed in skin-tight black jeans and an artfully torn t-shirt that matches his eyes. He looks good, but he isn’t a Turk in this world.

“Come on—don’t make your fans wait, Blondie.”

In the reflection, I see someone who looks like me, only with smoky black eyeliner and mascara on my lashes. My lips are painted a glossy pink that looks almost natural. Horror floods my system as I glare at the person in the glass. More surprising than the makeup is the outfit. A black leather brigade collar hugs my neck and shoulders, a matching harness crosses across my chest, accenting my skin (and my nipples) in a sexy way. My leather shorts are short enough to show off a sliver of ass below the hem. I can feel the fabric of the chair against my skin. I’ve got soft leather chunky-heeled boots on that reach above my knees. Black leather gloves creep up past my elbows and accent my muscular biceps.

What the _hell_ is this?

Reno glances at me in the mirror, his expression softening into a sympathetic gaze.

“Hey, kiddo, this is Shinra’s annual party. This is the biggest night of the year. You don’t have _time_ to be nervous. Get off your ass and start shaking it out there.” He runs fingers through my spiky hair, watching with affection (??) when my hair sticks back up on its own. “Here. Take this. It’ll calm you down from whatever you took that’s making you so anxious.”

He slips a pill between my lips.

“Swallow like the good boy you are.” I can hardly resist, so I just obey. I mean, _really_. Thanks, _Aerith_ , for the pharmaceutical assistance. “Now get your cute butt out there, Blondie. Those SOLDIERs are waiting for you. That’s your cue.”

He pulls me to my feet and shoves me toward a stage.

“What the _fuck_ , Aerith,” I mutter under my breath as my pulse starts to race.

I don’t need to be so nervous, I realize. Each time I’m dropped into a new world, my body retains muscle memory in addition to actual memories. I scan them to figure out what to do, relieved when my body knows exactly what’s to come.

The stage manager looks at me, eyes narrowed.

“Where’ve you been, Cloud? They’re _waiting_ for you. You shouldn’t be such a tease. The VIP table is here just for you—including a special guest. You’re to see them _personally_ after your performance. Now get out there!”

I’m hustled out on stage—and dismayed to see a pole. Gaia—I’m a fucking _stripper_ in this universe? How in the _hell_ did that happen?

“Aerith, you damned pervert!” I mutter. The stage is backlit with blue light, and I head over to the pole using a graceful stride my mind recognizes as a jazz walk. Inwardly, I cringe.

I recognize the song right away when it starts. It starts with a heavy, loud sound that sinks through my skin. I close my eyes and start to move.

> Mi-i-ine
> 
> Give it to you one time...

When the base starts thumping, my body reacts all on its own as soon as the spotlights come up. My hips gyrate and I grab the pole.

> Relax, don’t do it
> 
> When you go to it
> 
> Relax, don’t do it
> 
> When you wanna come

I start my routine carelessly, absorbing the beat through my skin, ignoring the cheering in the audience. My hips isolate to the beat perfectly, but this routine starts on the pole. Just like happens in a fight, I relax and let the music inspire my muscle memory. It feels _good_ —natural—just like walking or swimming.

Huh, I think. I wonder if this skill might carry over from one universe to the next. I wouldn’t mind being a good dancer in the next world. It feels powerful!

I use the pole efficiently, wrapping my legs around it, shimmying up higher and dropping down backward, flexing my abs when I bend back toward the audience. The stage lights prevent me from seeing their faces even now my eyes are open, but the sound of hands clapping to the beat and raucous yelling and cheering fills my ears.

The routine is ridiculous, straining every muscle group and working up a sweat. My movements flow smoothly, and they are more than a little suggestive. I try to ignore my rising blush with each hip thrust, crotch grab, and every time I run my fingers down my lithe, muscular form. My skin sparkles on stage with a discreet golden shimmer. It makes the lines of my abs glisten in the light.

> Relax, don’t do it
> 
> When you wanna suck it, chew it
> 
> Relax, don’t do it
> 
> When you wanna come

Completing a backflip to dismount the pole, I begin a short stage routine including flexible gymnastics and impressive tumbling. (I think it’s impressive, anyway.) I hear the crowd hollering and it only encourages my seductive motions.

“I’ve got something for you to suck right here!”

“Get down, baby!”

“Show off that ass, honey!”

My ears are attuned to the cheers of encouragement (I guess?) from the audience. I’m thankful for the soft breeze of the fan blasting cool air on the stage. I try to let my body perform the way it knows how without thinking too much. If I start to think too much about my ass grinding against the pole, I’ll chicken out and fuck up.

I keep my expression in resting bitch face for most of the routine, occasionally opening my mouth, sucking on gloved fingers, and seducing the audience with a sexy smile. Gaia—if Andrea Rhodea could see me now, he’d be proud. I work in elements of ballroom—vogueing, duck walking, and cat walking. It’s as familiar to me as any fight.

The routine ends in a series of tumbling moves with me on the floor in the splits. A deafening roar fills my ears when I climb to my feet and sweep into a bow. Flirting as much as I usually do (apparently), I wiggle my hips and blow the audience kisses when I take my leave. A Honeybee rushes out to scoop up all the bills that were thrown on stage while I was dancing.

“That was great, Cloudy. You had me worried for a minute.” Reno hands me a towel, wiping me down (more familiarly than I’d expect) and spritzing me with a mild cologne. “Get your makeup cleaned up and head to the VIP table. They are expecting you. Make sure you keep them happy. You're in for a real treat.” He slaps my ass on the way out—and it’s hard enough to sting. He chuckles at my dark glare.

I use the towel to blot my skin, head back to my station, and clean up any dripping makeup or sweat. My eyes glow softly with what I presume is mako. So how did I end up here, I wonder? I fix my hair (which is ridiculously shiny and fluffy) and walk out to the floor, weaving through grabbing hands to make my way to the VIP table. I walk past the bar and a fellow Honeybee hands me a tray of glasses and a pitcher of something alcoholic. I take it easily in one hand, continuing my way to the VIP area.

“Holy shit, it’s really _him_! He _rarely_ comes out to entertain customers personally,” one of the SOLDIERs says. I recognize him as Zack’s friend, Second Class SOLDIER Kunsel. As always, he has his helmet on, so I can’t see his face. And there’s Zack—who surprises me as his gaze wanders from the top of my head to my toes, hanging around my waist and hips. He looks interested in me. And I mean, _sexually_ interested.

“Zack,” I say softly, and his violet eyes glow when his gaze meets mine. He’s not all abashed for checking me out so obviously.

“You recognize me?” He asks. Apparently, I don’t know him in this world. I’m a little embarrassed for breaking my role so easily, so I try my best save.

“You’re First Class Zackary Fair,” I say. “Your face is recognizable.”

“Well, I’m flattered, Cloud. Do you happen to recognize anyone _else_ at the table?”

I look around, as I hand out the glasses from the tray. My heart stops—and my hand freezes—when I come face-to-face with a perfect, pale, chiseled face—an aristocratic nose, high cheekbones, a muted smirk on plush lips, and green, cat-like eyes. His hair is long and gorgeous in the low light.

“Sephiroth,” I murmur. He raises his eyebrows slightly. “General, sir,” I correct myself.

“You can call me by name,” his low voice rumbles. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, you’re not under him... _yet_ ,” snarks Zack.

“Make him call you ‘sir,’ sir! _Please_?” Kunsel begs and looks strangely starstruck. I can’t tell if he’s starstruck from the general’s presence or mine.

I give both Kunsel and Zack a sharp glare, earning myself loud laughter from the other SOLDIERs around the table.

“I was thinking that was a stage face up there,” Zack says, still laughing at my expression. “You don’t look like you want to be here entertaining us.”

“Then make it worth my while,” I sass back, earning myself another few shouts as I hand out drinks.

“ _Burned_!” Kunsel howls.

“Well, I may be able to arrange that,” Zack says. “But first, join us for a drink.”

I bend over the top of the table, arch my back, and pop out my hips—it’s a completely natural motion but unlike how I’d ever usually move in my world. This body knows that this is the best way to flaunt my ass—um, _assets_ on the job. A soft, sexy smirk plays on my lips when I'm not biting my lower lip subtly, and I can’t help glancing at the General and sending flirty glances his way.

“You were _hypnotizing_ tonight,” Zack says. He is bold enough to speak to me, though I don’t feel very intimidating. He hands me a glass filled with whatever was in that pitcher. It’s most likely SOLDIER strength, so I take little sips just in case the glow in my eyes is not from mako. I also notice the pill Reno gave me is making me both very relaxed and incredibly turned on. I’ve given up fighting my erection since dancing on stage by this point, and it’s got to be noticeable in my tight leather shorts. I am actively holding myself back from humping the side of the table.

“Why, thank you,” I flirt, flashing my teeth to all five SOLDIERs and fluttering my long lashes. I notice Sephiroth hangs back slightly, but his eyes never leave me. I wiggle my butt shamelessly for emphasis. “I’ve been told I’m a natural.”

Kunsel touches my hair—just gently—and is somewhat surprised it’s soft and not spiked up with product.

“Oooh, your hair is so _soft_! Feel it, here,” he says, leaning back and letting the SOLDIER next to him run his fingers through my hair. The other SOLDIER complies, though he glances at me carefully as if asking permission to touch. I nod and flash him a smile. I also notice that Sephiroth leans forward.

Zack reaches out and runs his fingers through my hair, and then he scoots his chair a little ways from Sephiroth’s and toward me, humming appreciatively. He stuffs a bill into the back of my shorts, letting his hand wander against my ass. “Our good General needs a little TLC. For later, too.” He slaps down an impressive stack of bills on the table. I look at it, mystified for a moment, then I realize that the other SOLDIERs (aside from Sephiroth) must have pitched in.

“Zack...”

“Come on, Seph. Relax and enjoy yourself! It’s our treat.” Zack turns back to me with a conspiratorial whisper right into my ear. “I’ll tip you extra if you make him cum in those leathers.”

A lap dance? I get to give the Sephiroth a lap dance?! _Shit_. And I do not need to think about the General doing anything to dirty up his tight-fitting pants.

Gods _damn_ you, Aerith, I think. I am pretty sure I can hear her giggle echoing in my head.

There’s a sexy 70s tune playing now—I suppose it’s appropriate, given the age of the average Shinra employee. The bass is fantastic, giving me the perfect opportunity to swing my hips in time.

> You're the girl who makes me feel so good
> 
> Cutie pie

“Here?” I confirm, approaching a now nervous-looking Sephiroth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear such an anxious expression.

“Yeah, to start anyway.” Zack leans in again and whispers, “We have more for, um, a _private_ session if this goes well _and_ you're offering.” After running his hand through his hair, he says, “Go ahead.” Zack leans back and takes a sip of his drink.

“This is not necessary,” Sephiroth starts to protest.

“But I’ve already been _paid_. It would be impolite to refuse,” I murmur, slinking up to his chair and angling it away from the table to face me. To my surprise, the large man shrinks away slightly. I reach out to touch his face with the back of my gloved fingers, keeping my eyes locked on his. I soften my expression—recognizing tell-tale signs of subtle embarrassment. “I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

The other SOLDIERs at the table coo and cheer, urging me on and making the General glare at them. His face softens each time he shyly looks back at me, though. It’s endearing and sweet. And _goddamn_ , whatever Reno gave me earlier is _really_ helping me ease into this situation.

I move my hips to the beat in slow and exaggerated swings—backing up a little and waiting for the silver-haired man to meet my eyes. He seems to be watching the exposed skin of my chest and abs, my leather-covered hips, and the exposed skin of my thighs. I look right into the emerald orbs and bring the back of my glove to my mouth, gripping the hem in my teeth and peeling it off, tossing it carelessly on the floor with a sexy smile. The silver-haired man’s eyes follow the movement and snap back to me with renewed interest and expectation.

Aerith, I’m going to _kill_ you. But damn it, this is _fun_. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more powerful.

“The rules are...” I murmur, interrupting myself by stripping off my remaining glove and casting it aside. “No touching. I can touch you, but you have to keep your hands to yourself.” Turning to meet Zack’s gaze firmly, I continue, “Same goes for you. If you want to touch, that’s _extra_ and in _private_.”

Zack yanks his hand back all at once, contrite. He had, in fact, been trying to touch my butt right at the juncture of my thighs.

I watch as Sephiroth uncomfortably shifts in his seat—and I don’t miss the bulge in the front of his pants. It’s a huge power trip—feeling like I can affect such a man.

Well, I’m here now, so I give it my all. I bend my knees and sway my hips to the beat, adding a serpentine, twisting movement to the rest of my body. I don’t shy away, though I feel a soft flush on my cheeks, nose, and chest. Maybe it's silly to believe that wiggling my ass will save the world, but who am I to judge? Undulating my body the way a bellydancer might, I keep most of my power in my legs, focusing on isolations.

I use the full space around his chair—letting my fingers brush his arms and shoulders as I strut around him. I also use the swivel aspect of the chair to turn him back and forth to push him up against me once I'm in front of him again. I notice his hands gripping the armrests as if he is struggling not to touch me.

While I have all of Sephiroth’s attention, I let the rest of the room (other than the music) fade away, focusing all my attention on him. I want to make him feel that he is the only person in the room. I tilt my head back a little so I watch him through half-lidded eyes as I touch myself—my arms, my chest, my sides, my waist, my thighs. And he relaxes while watching me, a curious look on his face.

His legs are spread and comfortable on the plush chair, so I slot my leg in between his thighs while keeping my body in motion, weaving my way closer and closer while slowly tilting my head forward and letting my eyes open wide. I surprise him when I grab the armrests of his chair and use my abs to move my legs to the outside of his, lowering myself to his lap.

He gasps when he feels my obvious erection pressing against his crotch, the sound of soft leather creaking as I grind against him shamelessly. His fingers are clawing desperately at the armrests as if he is trying to hold himself back. I find him utterly gorgeous and fascinating—especially when his breath picks up.

Leaning in close enough to kiss him, I brush my nose against his and take in his scent. He smells wonderful—surprisingly floral and sweet, but mixed with the smell of leather. He struggles not to kiss me back, but his chin chases me and I manage to get his eyes to drift half-way closed when I ghost over his lips with mine.

Gods, I want to fuck this man.

Oh, _shit_. I really _do_ want to fuck him.

As I continue the dance, bouncing on his legs and using my arms to shift my weight, I run through the options in my mind. I know—my mind knows—exactly what “private sessions” entail. More than anything, I want to have a private session with Sephiroth. _Tonight_. I’m sure I can convince him with this dance. Fuck it, I wouldn’t even charge him for the privilege, at this point!

Moving more of my weight to the chair, my knees working outside his upper thighs, and I comb both hands through his long, silky hair. I hear a startled gasp from the other SOLDIERs at the table—and I look carefully down at the green gaze watching me. While the others consider his hair off-limits, apparently he doesn’t mind what I’m doing. It certainly doesn’t feel like he minds, if his cock twitching against my crotch is anything to go by. I can make him twitch with arousal when I give the roots at the crown of his head a gentle tug.

Becoming a little more daring, I reach my hands overhead and slightly behind me as I bend backward off his lap. To make sure I don’t fall, I squeeze his legs tightly between mine, but I’m easily able to continue thrusting my hips in what I really, truly hope is a sexy way. I lean back so far that my fingers touch the floor behind me. I grab one of my gloves and bring it back up with me as I shimmy back into my original position, a mischievous smile on my face.

The glove is soft and supple, and I gently rub it against his skin—his throat, his mouth, his nose—knowing full well that he will get a noseful of my scent mixed with soft leather as I do. I smile teasingly, watching with fascination as his narrow pupils widen further and further, bleeding out the green of his iris to a narrow ring at the edge. I let the glove slip out of my fingers and use my hands next.

I touch his face, his throat, the pale skin of that amazingly muscular chest that peeks out of that bondage costume he calls a battle uniform. I pull myself off his lap using the straps on his chest—occasionally looking down at the hand caressing my body and breaking eye contact with him before flirting back with soft, sexy glances. I end up sliding down the length of his torso and lap to kneel in front of him, looking up at him while I rest my hands on his inner thighs. He relaxes his legs enough to open them but seems disappointed that I’m no longer in his lap.

To remedy his disappointment, I climb to my feet and twirl around in front of him and back my ass, which sways and wiggles to the music, against his lap while looking at him over my shoulder. I run my fingers through my hair and then rut against him as if dry-humping him right there. I want him to visualize the positions in which he might take me.

I feel so incredibly sexy and desirable—just from the way his dark eyes are devouring me and his body responds to me. Maybe Aerith wasn’t wrong to send me to this world. But I don’t want to think about her right now.

The routine is coming to a close, so I finish up the dance, ending up straddling him while facing him once more, and lowering my butt down flush against the very top of his thighs. His erection is throbbing against his pants even though I haven’t touched it with my hand. I back away slowly, curling forward enough to stick out my tongue and leave a long, wet trail from the center of his chest up to his throat, drawing another sharp breath from him.

Bracing my weight on his shoulders, I pull my legs off the chair and settle my feet back down to the floor, popping out my hips as I slowly, slowly back away. I stick a finger in my mouth as I watch him restrain himself, keeping his hands and his body against the chair. To tease, I let my hands skate down my sides to my waist, shivering deliberately into a shimmy, just to let him know I’m feeling it, too.

“Holy shit!”

“Oh, my gods...”

“Fuck, that was hot!”

“Hey, Zack, have we got enough to treat me to a dance, too?”

When the world between us comes back into my focus, I smile almost shyly and look up at the general. He is still watching me, his chest heaving with hard breaths, eyes dilated. He is ignoring everything but me.

It isn’t that I haven’t been his center of attention before. It’s just that this sort of attention is more intense than I could have imagined. I too am breathing hard, my body glistening with sweat. I turn his chair around, back to face the table. I also lean over and whisper directly into his ear.

“If you’d like to see more or touch, we can take this somewhere more _private_.”

He snaps his head toward me, spilling soft silky hair over my chest and startling me with the fast motion. He gets to his feet in one smooth, elegant motion, picking me up over his shoulder in a way that is so violent and rough I really should protest. He frightens a soft yelp from me, but I am giggling when he starts to wander away from his table. I am enjoying the manhandling _way_ too much!

“Where? Tell me _where_ ,” he growls urgently as he walks toward the lobby.

And that’s how we end up in a private room.


	2. After the Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud and Seph end up spending the night in a suite at the Honeybee Inn. This chapter is told from Sephiroth’s point of view.
> 
> Explicit (but consensual) sex, some angst and awkwardness, loss of virginity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh—I’ve been having migraines this week and I apologize for the slow update. It’s painful to look at a screen for so long!

Now that I’m in the elevator with the blonde dancer draped over my shoulder, I’m wondering if I have bitten off more than I can chew. I let him slide to the floor, feeling rather than seeing when his chunky-soled boots hit the carpet. He’s gorgeous. There isn’t any way he could be any more my type with his spiky blonde hair, his bright blue eyes (they seem to glow), and his athletic body, slim and muscular with curves in all the right places.

He’s meeting my gaze, a shy expression covering his features mixing with excitement as his pupils are wide and round. I can smell his arousal—a soft masculine scent combined with a gentle summery fragrance. He has a keycard in his hands. He turns away, though hesitant to break eye contact, to press a button on the elevator for the top floor.

“Um, is this really what you want?” He asks.

“What?” Perhaps my response sounds slightly brusque.

“To, um, spend some private time with me?”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise,” I state firmly. Maybe carrying someone off the way I did isn’t the common way to instigate sexual interactions. It didn’t seem as if I’d broken any societal norms at the time, however.

“I just, um, want to be sure that you weren’t pressured by your friends.” His voice is soft and sweet—music to my ears. But his words imply that he knows something about me he really shouldn’t. Namely, about my utter lack of experience in any sexual activity (involving another person, anyway).

“I want it,” I say simply.

“All right.” He cutely puts his hands on his hips, as if he is in some position of authority here. When the elevator chimes, he throws me a sexy wink and purrs, “Come on, then.”

I follow him down the hall, finding only one other door on the floor. I’m glad we’ll have privacy. My stomach feels unsteady as if there is a lack of blood flow to the organ. It raises my blood pressure and heightens my sensory input. I haven’t experienced this before—but I first noticed it while the blonde was grinding against my lap during that dance. I hope it isn’t a serious medical concern.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” he says, walking into the room after unlocking the door. He holds the door for me—which I also find quite cute. He locks the door behind us and I take a look around.

“I’m not nervous,” I lie.

In the center of the room is a large bed covered in red satin sheets. Immediately, I envision how the blonde’s pale skin will look against the color. For some reason, the thought calms my nerves but riles me up in other ways. There’s a bar in the corner, a huge jacuzzi style bathtub, and a small stage with a pole in the center next to a big-screen television on the wall. The room is decorated in rich shades of gold and black, accented with red.

“Have a seat,” he says, gently gesturing toward the bed. I sit down on the edge, trying not to be hesitant or let my nerves show. He pulls up a chair from the bar, turning it around so the back is facing the bed. “Can I get you a drink?”

I shake my head.

“I’m fine.”

He nods in acknowledgment and drapes himself across the chair, straddling the seat. I check out his outfit again. He’s exposing a lot of creamy skin, and those boots give him an extra three inches in height. He is a small man. Compact and perfect, I think.

“So. Let’s talk,” he suggests. “Have you been to the Honeybee Inn before?”

“It’s my first time.”

“Okay,” he says. “All the Honeys at the Honeybee Inn want to make your experience memorable and special. We want to make—” Here the blonde starts to recite a script, but he stops himself. “Fuck it. Actually, I’d like to just level with you if that’s all right.”

“Please.”

“So, I have a few questions for you. I want—more than anything—to make sure you enjoy yourself.”

“Same.”

He smiles at this. It sends another flash of fluttering through my guts and my face feels hot. I think I’d be pleased to see that expression on his face for the rest of my life, having been the cause of it.

“How long would you like to stay?”

“Well, I’m off tomorrow, but I do have to be back at work Monday—”

He waves his hand, smiling brightly again.

“That’s fine. So you’d like to spend the night with me?”

I nod.

“Great.” He seems relieved. “I provide many services.”

“Are you on the regular, um, menu here?”

“You’ve seen the menu?” He asks, somewhat surprised.

“Well, Zackary told me about it, and I’ve heard some things.”

“I’m not exactly a regular, no,” he says. “Andrea hired me to dance—on stage and privately. But I don’t, um, make a habit out of this kind of interaction except for special, um, clientele.”

“I see.” I am unable to hide my disappointment. Is he going to tell me he isn’t here to have sex with me?

“I consider _you_ special clientele,” he confirms, making sure to meet my eyes. Like the sky, I think—his eyes are like the summer sky. Gods, I’ve never seen a creature so pretty.

“Excellent,” I say, relieved.

“So, um, what did you have in mind for this evening? I can offer you a private, more intimate performance, a sensual massage, a relaxing treatment in the hot tub—”

“Intercourse. I would like to have intercourse,” I interrupt and I’m confident in my choice. It’s why I dragged him off the floor, after all.

He chuckles—actually, it’s almost a hum—and flashes his pearly white teeth. Gods—he’s _adorable_ , like a doll or a puppet. The idea that he is mine to do with as I wish—

“I’d assumed,” he interrupts my thought. “I would, however, like to know specifics about what you’d enjoy. Would you like to top or bottom? Do you enjoy a little bondage or BDSM? Would you like me to call you ‘sir’?”

Top? Bottom? Bondage? Like, with _rope_? Having the young blonde call me “sir”? Shit. It’s all so hot! When I don’t immediately reply, he gives me a slightly bewildered look. It’s soft, gentle, and tender, while completely devoid of pity. He pulls his leg gracefully over the chair—moving like the dancer he is, smooth and effortlessly—and approaches where I’m perched on the side of the bed.

“May I ask you a more personal question, Sephiroth?”

When he says my name, the tiny hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end and a shiver flows down my spine. I hope it isn’t noticeable, but I do wonder if there is something magic in his voice.

“Of course.”

“Is this the first time you’ve done this?”

“Done what?”

He smiles sweetly, standing between my legs but not touching me except for a hand on my cheek.

“Is this the first time you have had intercourse?”

“Yes.” I breathe out the word in a loud, harsh exhale, unintentionally. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. I’m thrilled you’d want to spend your first time with me.”

I swallow and my throat feels thick. There too much saliva accumulating in my mouth and I’m not quite sure why I’m producing so much. It’s not as if I’m planning to _consume_ the sweet blonde dancer in front of me. Although, the thought of putting my mouth on his body is certainly an attractive one.

“May I kiss you?” He asks. He must have noticed me licking my lips. I nod my assent.

He brings his lips closer, just brushing mine before pulling away. He keeps his bright blue eyes open and takes my lips a second time, just as slowly, but adding a little more pressure. The hand on my cheek moves to my jaw, nudging it softly. I part my jaw and let his tongue sweep across my lower lip and into my mouth. He tastes sweet—like bubble gum and mint—and his tongue feels hot. At first, I just allow him to kiss me, letting his tongue explore my teeth and tongue. His other hand moves to my throat—a weak, vulnerable area—but his touch is light and it sends a burst of heat into my hips.

Before long, as the kiss extends, I’m also exploring his mouth. The cavern is warm, yielding in a surprising way. The rest of his body seems so muscular and firm. The fact that his mouth is so welcoming astounds me. I enjoy it more than I thought I would.

He moves his hands to cover mine, guiding them to his sides, and I gladly wrap my hands around his slim waist. I can almost span his entire waist with my hands—he’s so slender. I slide my hands down his exposed skin, which is soft and smooth. His unique scent fills my nose, and I feel myself relax.

He hums slightly as he pulls away. He gives me a sweet smile and stands at his full height. Without ever looking away, he unbuckles the collar around his neck and pulls it off. The harness drops to the ground afterward. I’m getting harder the more pale skin he exposes. He’s no longer wearing his gloves, and soon he’s standing in those skimpy shorts and boots.

Taking a step back, he turns to his side, unzips the boots, and pulls them off. Sure enough, he is a few inches shorter without them. I can’t help noticing how shapely his calves are and how cute his feet look. His toes are short and rounded and perfectly proportional to the rest of his body. Then, he turns his back to me and throws a flirtatious look over his shoulder. His hands open his fly and he pushes the shorts off his hips. They are extremely snug, so he shimmies out of them with a little wiggle. I can hardly take my eyes off his ass. It’s much more muscular than I expected, perfectly rounded and gorgeous. I want to touch it. And Gaia—even his cock is pretty. It’s well proportioned, flushed pink, and aroused. I’d love to touch it, too.

It isn’t as if I haven’t spent time around other men—in the locker room, in the showers, while on a mission. I’ve seen and ogled enough bodies to know I have a distinct preference. While some SOLDIERs are handsome and muscular, like Zack, I prefer a more androgynous look—exactly like this young man. Watching him confidently strip is much more erotic than I’d expect.

Once he is naked, a soft blush dusts his cheeks and nose, accenting some of his pale freckles. He turns to me and my breath stutters when I take in his full nude form. He’s gorgeous—from his toes to the tips of his hair—and he is sporting an full erection, his lovely cock shimmering with a few drops of translucent pre-ejaculate. I expect him to kiss me. However, he doesn’t. He also stops my hands from touching him and instead goes for my coat’s large buckle at the waist. I help him undo the closures and let him peel the coat off of me. He glides his hands down my arms, pulling off my bangles and gloves, one at a time. His touch is feather-light and wonderful.

Kneeling at my feet—which is way, _way_ hotter than it has any right to be—he unfastens my boots, taking his time and sliding them off my knees and calves, massaging my feet and legs firmly.

“You are _gorgeous_ ,” he murmurs. His words send another foreign sensation through my body. Gorgeous? I haven’t heard that before. Alien? Weird? Strange? All of those things. But I have always felt too strange to be gorgeous.

While he is attentive to his task, he also is careful to flick his eyes up at me quite often. Once my boots are off, he gets to his feet, unashamed of his nudity except for that shy blush. The soft pink on his cheeks, sinking slowly into his neck and chest as I look at him, gives him an enticing aura of innocence that no exotic dancer has a right to have.

A soft sigh passes his lips, and his eyelids lower halfway when he reaches out to the harness crossing my chest. His fingers trace the leather, ghosting across my skin, prickling my skin when he brushes across my nipples. I can’t say anyone has touched me so intimately and with such tenderness before. He doesn’t have any motive except exploring my skin and my body and making me feel pleasure. The back of my throat tightens and my eyes burn. It’s almost uncomfortable—except that his attention feels so nice.

He slides the straps off my shoulders, easily able to figure out how to unfasten them, and then he skates his hands to my abdomen. It curls in on its own, and he smiles up at me when he rests his fingers on the waistband of my leather pants, his thumbs brushing the skin just above it.

“Ticklish?” He asks, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Of course not,” I lie again.

“Of _course_ not,” he echoes in a teasing tone. “Not the Silver Demon of Wutai. He would _never_ be ticklish.”

“It wouldn’t help my reputation.”

“You do understand that anything that happens here between us, stays between us?” He asks.

I suddenly find myself wondering about his name. This entire time I’ve been thinking of him as the blonde, or the blonde dancer. What did Zack say his name was? Didn’t he call him something?

“What’s your name?” I ask.

His eyes jerk up to mine, almost in shock.

“Oh, my gods. Did I forget to introduce myself? How rude of me.” He takes his hands off me and places one on his hip and one on his abdomen, bowing slightly. It looks ridiculous—since he’s nude—but it has an appeal I won’t deny. “My name is Cloud. I usually remember to introduce myself before I—well. I don’t _usually_ go around grinding my ass on the laps of strangers without introducing myself first—well—I guess I do. But in this setting...”

His voice is shy and timid, and he’s chattering himself into anxiety. I reach out and touch his face, and he looks up at me, the soft smile returning.

“I’m _so_ pleased to meet you, Sephiroth.” The earnestness in his voice takes me by surprise.

He takes another step closer to me, flush against me.

“When I was younger—I wanted to join SOLDIER to fight at your side. I dreamed of winning battles at your side. And I had such a crush on you. I even joined the cadet program to get close to you...”

“You were a cadet?” I ask, genuinely surprised. He has a small, lithe form, but his athleticism is graceful and coordinated. I thought I noticed a glow in his eyes.

“I failed the exam. Adverse effects from the mako, you know.”

“You received some injections, though? It’s why your eyes glow?”

He nods.

“Your eyes are lovely,” I say suddenly. Then I correct myself. “ _You_ are lovely. And you move very well. I think you would have made an excellent SOLDIER.”

“Thank you,” he replies softly.

It seems strange that he’d make the move to the Honeybee Inn after being in the military, but it seems intrusive of me to ask. I must not hide my curiosity very well, however, since he continues.

“This pays a _lot_ better than the infantry. And it’s fun and safer, too. My accommodations are nicer and the food is way better. And it’s kinda fun.”

I laugh at that. The infantry mess hall is notorious for their slop.

“May I?” He asks when his hands return to my pants.

I nod—perhaps more eager than would be polite, but I don’t care at this point. He doesn’t seem bothered as he continues his deliberate tender attentions. I wonder if all sexual activity is _this_ tender and gentle. If it is, I regret not getting involved sooner. Although, if I had, I might not be here now to celebrate this moment with this cute, blonde dancer—with _Cloud_.

I’m pulled up to stand so he can strip me out of my pants. They are tight, and he doesn’t say a word when he notices I’m naked beneath them. I’m already erect—from his lapdance and probably even from his stage performance. I’ve never felt quite so affected before, but I can’t say that I mind.

Though I haven’t done this with another person before, I am well educated on how the act works. So I’m a little startled when Cloud guides me back toward the headboard in a sitting position, while he straddles my legs.

“We will start slow,” he says, and then suddenly lunges forward, biting my nipple between his teeth. I startle and wince, and he looks up. “What? You show them off _all_ the time! Don’t tell me no one has done this to you before! I mean—they are _right_ _there_!”

I laugh despite myself. The very idea that a stranger—or a fan or comrade—might lick or kiss or bite my nipple just out of the blue... well. I was going to say it’s ridiculous. But now, when he licks me again, and a shockwave of pleasure sinks right to my groin, maybe “ridiculous” is the wrong word.

What would be the _right_ word?

As I lie back, thinking, I happen to glance at the ceiling. A mirror is mounted above the bed, in which Cloud’s perky backside reflects perfectly as he slides down my body. I can even see his tongue peeking out from behind those massive, soft spikes. I reach out and touch them—running my fingers through them gently—wondering how he gets his hair so soft and so... stick-uppy?

When he glances up and notices my gaze directed at the ceiling, he hums in amusement.

“Like what you see?”

“Fascinated,” I admit, unable to look away—and then I’m reminded that he’s right here—naked—and in front of me. I reach out my hands to touch his shoulders, intending to pull him in for a kiss, but he clamps his legs around mine and doesn’t follow.

“Just wait,” he purrs. When he meets my gaze with clear blue eyes, he kisses just the tip of my erection.

I’m shocked—utterly shocked—but the excitement that I’ve been doing well at holding back rushes into my groin and makes my cock twitch in excitement I’ve never experienced before. Something like a swear word slips from my lips—and I rarely swear.

He chuckles again, wickedly, keeping his eyes glued to my face. He sinks his hot mouth around my cock, sliding his lips down the length slowly, slowly, wrapping his tongue around me and humming. My thighs twitch with interest, and my abs flex.

He notices, flattening his hand out on my stomach, gently pushing against the muscles, tracing the lines with his fingers. When he next pulls me out of his mouth, leaving me gasping for breath, he whispers, “Just relax.”

Then he gets to work—sucking and licking my erection as if I’m the tastiest dessert on the planet. Being touched in a way that isn’t violent or invasive is a new experience for me, and I’m completely overwhelmed. I feel his top and bottom lips tighten and loosen around my shaft. The tip of my cock brushes against the back of his throat and slides much deeper than it should be able to, and the muscles of his throat constrict around me. If his mouth is so hot and welcoming, what the hell am I going to do when I explore other parts of his body?

He uses both hands to stroke the base of my shaft and caress my balls. He takes his time as if he enjoys this as much as I do—humming sweetly, letting me feel the vibration from his vocal cords. He even ghosts his fingertips between my cheeks and across my asshole. While normally, I’d shrink away from any touch there—as it reminds me too much of what has been done to me in the labs—his touch is gentle and non-invasive and sends bursts of lust through my body. All the while, he keeps glancing up at me, those bright blue eyes watching my response with a look on his face that seems to say, “you’re gorgeous, you’re perfect, and I want you.”

I’ve never felt so desired. Part of me worries that he is being paid to lather this sort of affection and attention on me, and I’m falling for it. This is his _job_ , after all. But it certainly doesn’t decrease the desire I have for him.

In a shamefully short amount of time, my breath comes faster and harder, and I nudge his shoulders in between my attempts to stay quiet.

“Cloud,” I murmur—realizing that I’m not doing a good enough job at keeping quiet. I’m approaching the point of no return very quickly. I don’t want to ejaculate in his mouth if he isn’t expecting it, but I don’t want him to stop, either. “Cloud—ah—I’m going to—”

Instead of pulling away, the blonde starts sucking even harder. He also starts to bob his head up and down, twisting his head slightly as he pulls me out of his mouth before deepthroating me. He feels impossibly good—and I let the lust carry me away.

My vision dissolves into a bright flash of white when I climax, and a sound I’ve never heard myself make escapes my lips. It feels _so_ good—tingling and warm and wonderful—when I release. My ejaculate spills down his throat and he swallows every drop as my body jerks and shudders beneath him.

I realize too late that I’ve fisted his fluffy hair in both hands and have been holding on for dear life. As I relax into the bed, enjoying a wonderful, relaxed afterglow, he hums again, pulls my cock out of his mouth, tantalizingly grazing his teeth against my sensitive skin, and lands a few ticklish, kittenish licks on my shaft.

“You have _no_ idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmurs, pulling himself against me and relaxing the grip he’s had on my hips with his legs. He nuzzles the fine silver hair beneath my belly as I try to catch my breath.

“That felt amazing,” I say, and my voice sounds like another person. I’m relaxed and I feel _human_ —not like a weapon Shinra has created. This must be why sex is such a popular pastime among my troops. Why doesn’t it feel like this when I’m on my own?

“I’m glad,” he says, meeting my eyes again. I nudge his shoulders to encourage him to stretch out on top of me. Wrapping his lithe body up in my arms, I squeeze him against my chest, feeling his firm muscles relax around me. When have I ever spent time in the presence of another who wasn’t frightened of me? One who wants me to experience _pleasure_? I can’t think of a single time.

“Hmm. You’re nice and relaxed now,” Cloud says.

His erection is hard and dripping, pressed against my belly, and I’m flooded with a sudden, unexpected wave of guilt.

“But you, um, you haven’t—”

“Hush. Your enhancements will take care of me soon enough,” Cloud assures me, running his fingers through my hair. He seems fascinated by it. “I need to do a little prep before the next round. Why don’t you relax in the tub?”

Next round? I’m filled with relief. I’ve heard in the locker rooms, of course, that SOLDIER stamina includes a short refractory period. I’ve never explored this myself, however. But I am eager to see what else he has in store.

“Come on,” he says, pulling me off the bed and leading me to the jacuzzi. The water smells nice and feels even better. Before I can get in, however, Cloud coils up my hair in his hand, tying it into a loose bun.

“So it won’t get wet.”

“Thank you,” I say—and I don’t mean just for helping me with my hair. My eyes feel strange at his intimate touch—as if they are burning. My vision blurs a little. I haven’t felt anything like this in a long time. My chest aches, too. I can’t identify any of the feelings.

With the dancer’s help, I slide into the tub as Cloud turns on the jets. They feel nice against my skin, and I relax and go completely boneless. Cloud giggles softly when my entire body floats to the surface of the water.

“You are quite relaxed now.”

I return the soft smile, forcing my body to bend at the waist so I will stay under the jets. He walks back toward the bed, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid from the bedside table. Then he lies back on the bed in the same position I was.

“Watch and learn if you like,” he suggests in a low purr.

To my surprise, he spreads his legs and tilts up his hips, giving me the perfect view of his genitals. His cock is flushed pink and curves gently against his belly. He gently squeezes his testicles a little, allowing a glimpse of his pink puckered hole to wink at me. I’m no stranger to anatomy. Of course, I’ve seen this part of the body on several occasions. I just don’t quite remember feeling so aroused by it before.

I can’t suppress a gasp of delight when I watch him slide a lubricated index finger inside of his body, followed quickly by the middle finger. When I glance up at his face, his heated gaze is on me, watching me watch him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a beautiful sight.

He works both fingers inside himself, stretching and massaging. When a third finger slips inside, he brushes something inside himself that sends a shudder through him. He’s _unbelievably_ sexy.

“You’re incredible,” I murmur.

After a few minutes, I notice my erection is back in full force, poking insistently above the surface of the water.

“Join me?” He offers in a small voice.

“I’d be delighted,” I say, pulling myself up out of the water and barely drying myself as I walk from the tub to the bed. I climb up and kneel between his legs, getting a closer view of exactly what he is doing. I don’t miss the heated blush dusting his cheeks.

“Let me show you.”

He pulls his fingers out of himself with a soft, wet noise and grabs my hand. He squirts a little of that cold lubricant onto my fingers, before pulling my hand between his legs. I comply gladly, letting him guide me.

His entrance looks tightly closed, so I brush a little of the lube around the ring. He shivers but smiles at me just the same.

“Go ahead,” he encourages me.

I push in two fingers, shocked at the heat and the tightness surrounding my knuckles. He makes a small noise and shifts his hips. I feel a small spot on his inner walls—it feels tighter and firmer than the rest of him, and I caress it tentatively.

His response is anything but tentative. He gasps and curls up, letting his knees fall open wider as he enjoys the sensation. I notice my breath hitching when he clenches around me—knowing that another part of my body will be inside him soon.

“Add another finger,” he urges.

I comply—enjoying the sensations as I gently tease that bundle of nerves inside. Each time he shudders, I notice his cock twitches and drips a little more. I use my other hand to stroke his erection.

When my fingers move freely inside of his body, he grabs my wrists.

“I’m ready,” he says.

When he sits up, my fingers slip out from inside of him. He maneuvers around me, pushing me off my knees.

“Straighten out your legs for a second,” he orders—sending a little shiver up my spine. I’m not sure if it’s anticipation or if it’s his confidence. Regardless, my cock is as already as hard as it was when he was giving me that lap dance.

He pulls himself up to his knees, straddling my lap. I feel heat radiating from his body hovering just above me.

“Okay, bend your knees now.”

I bring them up and he leans against them while he lines up my cock with his entrance. His molten gaze shimmers when my cock pushes up against his entrance. He takes a deep breath in, keeping his eye on me.

“Are you ready?”

I nod, unable to form words.

With that, he lowers himself onto my cock. The sensation of his slick, silky insides wrapping around my shaft is indescribable. He feels amazing. As he slides down slowly and carefully, his brows slightly furrowed but a smile playing on his lips, he feels like my other half. I fit snugly inside of his body like we are two pieces of a puzzle.

Once he is settled on my lap, his ass resting against my hips, I let out a long, hard exhale. I feel his every breath, every tiny movement.

“Gods, you feel good,” I murmur.

The comment sends a fresh blush to his cheeks and he looks away for a moment before turning back with a genuine smile on his face. He reaches out his hand, stroking my cheek with the back of his fingers. I don’t delay—leaning in to take his lips. Even that small motion of me curling forward makes him tighten around me, and I gasp into the kiss.

His body starts to rock back and forth then lifts off my lap. He rises to his knees, nearly allowing my cock to slip out, but he catches it just in time when he lowers himself back onto me. It’s a gentle, slow movement, but the rhythm is perfect.

He moans when the head of my cock brushes against his prostate. I feel his shudder deep inside my core when he clenches around me. His breath quickens and his eyes gloss over—and again, I’ve never seen a more attractive creature.

“You can move, too, if you want,” he gasps out.

He moves his hands from my shoulders to my hair, pulling it out of the bun and letting it float down to the bed. He grabs two fistfuls to pull me up closer, and our lips meet again. He pulls a little, letting my mouth slide from his lips to his jaw and throat. I find a sensitive spot behind his ear, noticing how he clenches up around me when I lick it.

Then, I realize, I don’t have to keep completely still. My hands roam over his body, gently pinching his nipples and receiving another delighted moan and enjoying his body constricting around me. He never stops moving—and I watch with fascination how his abs flex. My hands wander to his back and shoulders, sliding them down his body, damp with sweat, along his slim waist to his ass. He moans again when I touch his ass—and his insides twitch around me.

Tentatively, I thrust up a little from beneath him. He isn’t heavy, so I have plenty of room to move. He gasps in surprise, his body trembling and his fists tightening.

“Mmm—right there—more...”

His voice sinks into my ears sending goosebumps down my neck and shoulders. I revel in the sensation and thrust up into him again, harder now, relishing the heat and grip inside his body. It takes a few minutes to establish a rhythm that matches his. It’s slow but hard and deep—so different than how I usually treat myself when I masturbate. This feels utterly indulgent and hot.

Fascinated by the blush on his cheeks, watching as it melts into his ears, down his throat, and into his chest. The pink color deepens to red, making his pale freckles stand out less from his usually pale skin. The sounds coming out of him—moans, sighs, gasps—are getting louder and increasing my arousal even more.

At some point, I realize I too am releasing similar sounds, and I just let my voice go.

“Sephiroth...”

When he says my name, a shudder courses down my back. I move one hand from his ass to his cock, stroking it in time with our motion. He melts into the touch and purrs—it sounds so much like a cat that I find it almost disorienting. But I will never forget the sound.

“Cloud,” I murmur into his ear, bringing him in closer, sucking at the skin between his throat and shoulder. He shudders again, and his body suddenly tightens around me. He gets very loud and curls his body toward me, increasing his range of motion, clutching my cock inside of his body as deep as it will go.

“Sephiroth!” He cries out—and I feel the warm splash of his release against my belly, spilling out over my hand.

I hardly have time to notice that, though, as I lean back a little to watch his face melt into indulgent pleasure. His body clenches up so tight that he pushes me over the edge at the same time. It’s hot to watch his eyes on my face, the small smile quirking up the corners of his lips, just before his eyes roll up into his head as his long lashes flutter against his cheeks.

My climax is stronger than the first one—more powerful than any orgasm I’ve ever felt. It courses up my spine and leaves me trembling as I ride out the sensations inside of him. I don’t even notice the unearthly growl that escapes my lips, watching as his pupils fully dilate.

Soon, I am left panting with effort as he collapses against my chest.

“Oh, shit,” he murmurs. “Thank you, Aerith.”

I wonder briefly about the name—perhaps it’s a goddess I haven’t heard of before. I hardly care, though. My body is flooded with relaxation and I collapse back against the bed, pulling him with me.

As I catch my breath, I peer up at the ceiling, watching his reflection in the mirror. His back heaves with desperate breathing, and I can see my cock still inside his body. It must be uncomfortable, I think, so I move to pull out. He stops me with his hand on my chest.

“Stay,” he orders—in that silky soft voice. “Just _stay_ with me.”

I don’t move, except to caress his bare skin. His muscles are relaxed but strong, as I slide my hands around his neck, his shoulders, his ass. He simply breathes deeply, his nose buried deep in my hair. He smells wonderful—even when (or maybe because) he is sweating. Sweet and honeyed, a little like a summer meadow, I think.

I wrap my arms around Cloud and hold him.

“I never want to let you go.” I’m surprised to hear the words escape my mouth.

“Then don’t. Stay with me.” His breath tickles my neck, but he feels so warm and safe. At this point, I would do anything to stay with him. So I do.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I danced to Frankie Goes To Hollywood. I really, really did. I’m not quite old enough for Cutie Pie, but I love that song, too. I’m ashamed to admit it, but what the hell.


End file.
